Team Fortress 2: Bad For You
by Arklaw
Summary: The highly effective and expertly composed Team Fortress has been given a new assignment; destroy a highly advanced base in the middle of nowhere. Classic, right? Wrong... What they will face there goes beyond anything they could possibly imagine. Alright I'll admit their imagination is not that great to begin with... But still! It'll be something!


_This story is someting I would love to see animated. Can anyone review this and point me to the experts? Or point the experts to me? Whichever... Thanks in advance!_

-~o~-

Soldier, the living embodiment of everything he thinks America stands for, was looking down in shame. Finally, he addressed the Team gathered before him on this rocky hilltop.

"Men... Today I am going to do the one thing I swore never to do... Admit that communists did something right..." he extended his arm behind him, a tear slowly falling down his cheek. "This fort, is, PERFECT."

The man had a point. The facility had many building, and all of them had turrets, defensive towers, cameras, and fortified walls. It was a black marvel of steel and cement that could withstand assault from all sides. More than anything, it was clean, despite behind in a rocky desert for so long. Someone handled the place well. Compared to Team Fortress' usual decrepit battlefields, this was a step up. The old war-dog put a hand to his face and moaned longly, like a wolf crying to the moon.

Next to him, the large and wise Heavy Weapons Guy rebuked: "I don't think perfect fort exists, but this one is not Russian fortress."

Soldier's face lit up under his oversized helmet. He immediately removed the pesky drop of water that plagued his courageous face.

"It isn't? Hoora men! The promise I made to President Washington is not broken yet!"

Behind them was the Spy, lean, calm and perfectly well-dressed as he sat on a comfy looking rock. he had his french accent and the associated sarcasm armed and ready:

"Ah yes, Washington... The famous President who fought against communism in the late 18th century."

"Correctamundo." replied the oblivious Soldier. "Now, is everrrrrybody rrrrready to rrrrraze this deadly place to the groundddd?!"

Scout, sitting far awy from Spy, took the stage:

"Huh, let me think about it... How about no! Come on are you even seeing what I'm seeing? There's turrets, like, everywhere! Up there, down there, right there and left there! Look they even put ten of those diagonnaly! Who designed this shit!"

Scout turned towards Pyro. The man in insulated combinaison had a fuming piece of wood balancing on his head, but he had followed the conversation, maybe.

"Mm mon mo? Mammiens?" he theorised, before walking away in search for more firewood.

Medic, raised his hand to have a turn. His heavy german accent didn't bettray his understanding of the situation:

"Excuse me, before we discuss assaulting this thing, _*clink*_ we should learn WHY we are here _*clink* _assaulting this thing. _*clink*_ Verdammt... Just... Why are we here exactly? _*clunk*_ This doesn't feel like _*clink*_ the usual _*clank*_ Fortress Raid where we _*clink* _just _*clink* __*clank* __*clunk* __*clonk* _ENGINEER! WOULD YOU STOP THAT! YOU'LL GIVE US AWAY!"

The man Medic had turned to was busy hitting a strange and intricate device. Engineer, his hard hat and welding googles well affixed to his square face, didn't bother turning towards his comrade.

"You want your Medi Gun fixed or not? I CAN do it quietly, but that there just doesn't wanna go away."

He pointed a gloved finger towards a little bit of metal sprouting out of the top of the obejct. Medic's glasses fell down a bit, he raised an eyebrow and a question:

"... A bump... You have trouble with... a bump?"

"I'm a perfectionnist son, comes with the license. You'd understand that if you still had one."

If Pyro had payed attention, he would have loved this burn. Medic turned away, took a deep breath, put his glasses back in place, and cleared his throat:

"Ahem... I reiterate. Why are we here?" _*clink*_

"You mean you don't know?"

Medic looked at him in silence, he didn't want to repeat himself a third time. Scout obliged him:

"Basically some folk at that facility stole some bombs."

"Like the ones we put on rails and blow people with!" interrupted Soldier.

"Indeed." confirmed the Spy. "We're here to blow them up insided their own base. _*clink*_ We get in, activate _this _device, and run away before we die stupidly."

Our great master of stabs in the back revealed a small timed bomb set to 15 minutes. It was ugly to look at, similar to a bunch of old timey dynamite sticks rolled around an actual alarm clock. Medic wasn't really enthralled by that plan.

"Riiight... Und how are we supposed to get in this heavily guarded, completely impenetrable fortress exactly?"

"Quietly, *_clank* _preferably." replied Spy, rolling his eyes at the stupidity of the situation.

This did not please their not-really-commanding officer:

"Quietly? Like some blind crocodile? Never!" _*clunk*_

"That metaphor made no sense whatsoever. I am only suggesting we refrain from engaging those defenses head on."

"By Benjamin Franklin's luscious haircut, I will not tolerate cowardice in this unit!" Soldier angrily taps Spy's belly with his finger. "You will take your sneaketing idea and shove it down your feet before I punch you in the gut! And do it quick! I don't want some of your yellow-belly juice seeping through my knuckles..."

A black man with an eyepatch, and a lean man with a sniper rifle came back from reconnaissance from another rocky hill.

"Ah... Finally someone with half a brain."

The half-blind Demoman felt offended by the implication and retorted thusly:

"Look who's talkin' with a baby's bib over yer face." *_clank*_

"Good one english pirate." said the appreciative Soldier.

Demoman, aware of his comrade's latent lack of intelligence, was skeptical of this praise: "... Ya know watta bib even is?"

"It's a foreign word for _surrendering_?" confidently supposed the US admirer.

"Och... Whatever."

Medic asked a pertinent question to the duo: "Anything of interest to report?"

"Nah. It's goddamn impregnable on all ends." revealed the australian Bushman.

Demoman took a bottle from... Somewhere, drank a sip, and pursued. "Ach. Ah could blow me way in from sum points, back and near that wee tunnel there but then we'd be spotted like leopards an' spikier than tarn porcupines."

Engineer took a second between his heavy blows to ask:

"You mean turned into porcupines? How exactly?"

Sniper explained: "Ah it's just some cute little rabbit ho got too close to one of them fences right? Milliseconds later the turrets launches a bloody spear on the poor bugger. Too fast to dodge... Never saw it coming, never had a chance."

Scout wept internally for the poor bunny, and swore revenge against those bomb-stealing scumbags.

Heavy called out to the people behind him: "If little men are done talking about dead things, you should come start seeing."

The whole group, excluding Pyro who was busy litting fires elsewhere, gathered near the edge of the hill. A few trucks had exited the tunnel west of their position and headed towards the facility. Like a well oiled machine, they passed an automatic fence and entered one of the buildings whose door opened as the vehicules came. In the end, nothing interesting happened. Unless they stole a vehicule, their situation wouldn't change. The group stood in silence, waiting for someone to have an idea (a very rare event mind you). So their routine continued. _*clink clunk clunk clink cloaunk*_

"Hey boys, there's some movement down at the warehouse there." said the Engineer between jabs on the Medic's device.

"Sniper! Follow that maggot movement with me!"

Soldier placed his hand in front of his eyes like makeshift binoculars, Sniper kept his through his scope. They saw three normal looking men walking towards another facility. They following them as they opened the warehouse's door. Inside were many scary figures. Humanoids encased in metals, but not the kind they had seen before. More advanced, bigger and way scarier. Their heads were almost flat, but wholly dreadful, like an executionner's hood. Sniper couldn't help but comment. "Holly molly what are they?"

Soldier was curious: "Sit and rep son. What is that _they_? Robots?"

"Could be. it's scarier than our usual bunch though, reminds me of an old Ned Kelly poster."

"Ooh good to hear. For a moment a thought this Golliath looking was a threat to our mission. Kellies are easy"

A cold sweat ran down Sniper's spine. Not the kind that entails fear, but the one that came when it was personnal. He never liked that sweat, made him piss the wrong kind of jarate. He put his rifle away and slowly addressed Soldier.

"Mate... What, did, you, just, say?"

Soldier, in his ignorance, failed to feign feigning ignorance. Basically he had no clue.

"What? It's a _Kelly_, how hard can it be to whoop its metal ass?"

"You take that back, right, bloody, now."

Soldier felt a challenge against his self-made authority and clenched his fists.

"I will not! God made it so that every name ending with -_lly _belongs to a weakling! There's Emilly, Jolly, Holly, Billy and Kelly! And I bet that Ted Kelly of yours is no better."

"Mate, I don't care if your brain melted under that stupid bowl of yours. Don't you DARE mock the greastest bushranger in BLOODY history you EAGLE-KISSING DRONGO!" screamed the australian rifleman, going for his big knife.

"Make me you long-eared HILLIBILLY!" shouted a shovel-wielding maniac.

"RAAARGH!"

"ROOOORGH!"

They each got a clean hit right their respective weapons. The knife and the shovel fell to the rocky ground. They had to carry on unarmed but the fight was on, as on as it could be. Their squabble roughly went this way: First was a jab to the Sniper's face, then a kick to the Soldier's groin. The latter ignored the pain, (an easy feat when you literally ignored the meaning of the word), and launched a badly aimed hand chop at the Bushman's hat. Then came an idiotic punch right in the soldier's metal helmet. It was immediately followed by a kick in the screaming man's mouth. It continued for a while. At least Engineer had stopped making that stupid noise so the two frenemies could hear each other's screams.

"Huh, fellas?." warned Scout.

It was getting good though, and taking a while, Pyro returned with some burning picket fences in his arms.

"Mmah mid I mith?" he asked, before what he saw made his drop his quarry. "Oh oh..."

Neither of the two fighter was giving an inch... Unless you counter Sniper shoving an inch worth of shoe inside Soldier's buttocks.

"Gentlemen. They would like you to stop." insisted the Spy.

Soldier, very annoyed, stopped bitting Sniper's belt to give an answer:

"Says you and what army frog-man?"

A patch of smoke exited the mystery man's mouth in a straigth line. He tightly held a golden watch in his left hand a gun in his right as he tiredly said:

"Short answer to a stupid question? This one."

Above the rocks surrounding the little camp, ten metallic warriors now encircled the team with their firearms ready. They remained still, as if waiting for an excuse. The two brawling men got back on their feet silently, slowly. All the other members of Team Fortress had reached for their weapons in time. The Medic, completely outgunned, clenched his teeth and his sawblade. Frustrated, he told the Engineer: "I told you to stop hitting that."

"Well the bump is gone now, so you're welcome." answered the PhD holder, cocking his shotgun.

Both sides had their advantage; the gardians were fully metallic, well equipped, organised and well-positionned. As for Team Fortress, they could now fire in every direction, and they looked too pathetic to be a threat... That's all... Soldier liked those odds.

"Men, I order you to be ready to tear those sacks of metal and bolts to bloody pulp!"

"Everything coming out of big mouth make me want to kill you first." calmy admitted Heavy.

Scout, unable to decide which robot to aim for, made a proposal: "Can we, like, surrender? _Killed by robots because of idiots_ is not what I want on my tombstone. I want something cool like _died after swallowing five pizzas and lifting two hot girls with his.._."

Suddenly, the biggest of the robotic warrior evacuated some steam like a locomotive. Slowly, it put its weapon aside and placed it hands on its head. It removed it. And magically, a human head appeared in its place. Human woman's head to be exact. Soldier was overjoyed.

"Ah! I knew it! This is how women are born! I knew grandad was lying about that _sleeping_ business!"

The tall woman, with her _actually_ luscious blond hair flowing with the wind and a bullet scar on her forehead, didn't look very happy.

"What the hell are you idiots doing outside of Teufort?" asked Commander Holly Greens.


End file.
